


The Thing Called After.

by CoffeesForFuckers



Category: Autoboyography - Christina Lauren
Genre: Cute, Gay, I NEED MORE, LGBT, M/M, autoboyography, couldn't help it, i have never cried harder, just a little 'book entry' after Seb came back, please make more fics, please read this book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeesForFuckers/pseuds/CoffeesForFuckers
Summary: After the ending of Autoboyography, Tanner keeps on writing. He can't just stop.





	The Thing Called After.

Sebastian Brother, a topic always in my head. I write, and write, and write about him, never stopping. He makes me never  _ want _ to stop. He lays on the bed in my dorm room now, fast asleep.  _ In. My. Bed. _

I never in a million years believed that I would ever even see Seb again, but there he is and here I am.

His jaw.

His stubble.

His soft, closed eyes.

Unwrinkled face.

Skater hair.

That neck.

And of course…

His lips, 

They’re parted slightly as he sleeps, breathing through the little space between them. All I can think of is that first time he ever said that he loved me too. Under the Snuffaluffagus tree in my backyard, he kissed me and left his stupidly soft, smooth, silky,  _ Heavenly _ lips open on mine when he tried to give me a kiss, an ‘ _ I’m sorry’ _ type of one.

Oh, Seb.  _ My _ Seb.

I crawl under the sheets with you, your sleeping mind subconsciously wraps your tired arms around me instead of my pillow. You press your nose deep into my hair, curling around me. If only you would read all of this, you know, the  _ extra _ book stuff that was just left out, unneeded and left behind. All of that was my diary. In reality, my book, the one that is dangling over the fire of being published,  _ is  _ my diary and it just might be pushed into the world for everybody and anybody to read. 

My face in your chest, I inhale.  _ You smell so good, you smell like what I think Heaven would smell like. _

I still haven’t read your book, you’ve read mine a million times. Though, you won’t let me read your new one. Is it because I made you wait to read mine? Is it because I actually was never really going to show anybody -  _ including you -  _ that book? Or are you procrastinating like I was?

I know it’s not done and that I haven’t even read  _ Firestorm _ yet. 

I have officially decided that I will be reading your book starting now.

Actually, not right now. Maybe in the morning. You’re so warm and soft and strong and  _ I miss you so much _ . That I can’t remove myself from your grasp, even if I had to.

When you’re here - with me - I melt into this puddle of everything, anything. I can do absolutely everything and anything if you’re here with me. Your touch makes me jelly, I couldn’t even stand when I saw you earlier.

_ I missed you so much, Sebastian.  _

I can’t help myself when I tilt my head up and kiss your sleeping jawline, your little stubble scraping against my mouth. I love you, Sebasition, more than I can say or express. More than I should even be able to  _ feel. _ I think that’s why, even now, even when we were together and are together, I can’t help but spill it all over a post-it note or into my laptop.

I’m not a hundred percent sure but I even think you may have seen my melt down after we got back to my dorm from the court-yard and you kissed me so hard I nearly fell over and we kissed, and kissed, and kissed, Sebastian. My brain is still processing it but all I could do once we stopped and you tried to start conversation is sit at my desk - away from you - with my fingers typing the same fucking words  _ over, and over, and over _ . Like the way you had kissed me.

I kissed him.

I kissed him.

I kissed him.

Line after line as if my mind had just fallen to pieces (probably because it definitely had).

You smiled and talked and talked about life at home and the book tour, “ _ I missed you so much, Tanner. I missed you so much.” _ You would say at the end of every. Single. Sentence. 

I only snapped from my rapid-typing-mental-collapse-state once you had said something about how you didn’t care who knew that I was yours anymore, “ _ I love you. I love you so much more than I missed you, my heart ached in my chest every single second that I wasn’t distracting myself with the sights and the people. When I went to bed, I read a piece of your book and would close my eyes and picture it and then I would let myself think for hours about you, falling asleep without even noticing. I was constantly tired. But, coming here, as soon as I saw you, as soon as you looked up at me, I was finally alive again. I was awake for the first time in months. I want to scream from the rooftops that I love you, Tanner. I want to told your hand and kiss you. I don’t care who sees.”  _ You went on and on and I just sat here, staring and studying your every feature, your every movement. It was all so familiar, like I had just seen you yesterday. Like we never stopped talking.

All I want is you. 

I want to be your boyfriend. 

I want to call you mine.

I love you, Sebastian.

I love you and  _ you’re here. _

 


End file.
